King Kong fanny pack, Willy and the hand jive, and catch my anal drift

Today, I got reacquainted with the King Kong fanny pack. Things got off to a rough start when the fanny pack nurse realized that I did not bring the bag or pump with me. I didn't know I was supposed to bring either, but then I remembered that the nurse, who unhooked me at home the last time, didn't leave them with me. I even sent my brother home to check. The nurse had given the only pump she had to a new customer, because the company she works for didn't send one for him/her. So the nurse had to get one delivered to me at the cancer center, while I waited. It came via a courier, and then she brought a spare fanny pack she had in her car just in time for me to take the elevator downstairs to the radiation treatment area. So I would have had to wait anyway from the time the pack was hooked up until my 3:45 radiation. 

I got the 15 minute mitomycin infusion after my blood results came back, and I'm now wearing the King Kong fanny pack with a strap that ends right under my right boob. The last fanny pack I had had a much longer strap that allowed me to wear it across my body and hang to my waist. With a colostomy at my waist, I don't need to wear a heavy fanny pack AROUND my waist. I'm not thrilled with the short strap on this one, but I called about it and they are going to try to send a nurse here during the day or have one meet me at the cancer center before my radiation tomorrow. 

Just so you know, I do have fun with the receptionists, nurses, radiation therapists, and doctors during my treatments. The radiation therapists whom I meet with 5 days a week for about 15 minutes are a fun group of gals. We've had some impromptu dancing, singing, story telling, and lots of laughs packed in a short time. They give me a rubber doughnut ring to hold on to, which, of course, you already know about, because you've read the other blog talking about that. The other day, I had to remind them to get me the ring, but I couldn't remember what it was called, so I said, "Don't forget the hand job, so to speak." This prompted comments from the therapists. "I guess we won't watch you on the viewer this time like we normally do" and "You're going to need a cigarette when you come out of here." 

And Dr. BigHands just had a birthday on Saturday, which I learned about the Thursday before. On the way home on Thursday, I stopped at one of my favorite gift shops, specializing in the bizarre, gag gift types of presents. I got him a card and two gifts and left them for him on Friday, when I went for my treatment. I saw him today when I went for radiation therapy, and he thanked me and informed me that he get sick on his birthday, but it was still a good birthday. On Friday, one nurse had told me that he had four gift bags, two cakes and a pie waiting on his desk for him. The card I got for him had two roosters on it, and under them, it said, "Mine is bigger than yours." I explained inside the card that I meant my age was bigger than his. I gave him some salad tongs, which had hands at the end of the tongs - the tossing part, not the handle part. I was going to suggest he use those for exams instead of his BigHands, but I think the splinters might be worse than his MainsGrandes. I also found a small bottle of hand sanitizer that had "Anal Traveler" on the label on the front of the bottle. This can have several meanings, if you catch my drift, and if you're standing down wind from me, at a time when my pouch has sprung a leak, you would.